Special thanks to Ukrainian Snowstorm and Discortant Blade for betareading this! Couldn't have done it without you guys, your advice and tips were of great use!


Pain.

That was the thing Takkar felt most as he slowly slipped back into consciousness; great pain, all across his body.

He didn't know how long he'd been gone. The last thing he could remember was Dalso pushing him off the cliff, just as the massive tiger was about to…

DALSO!

Takkar instantly sat bolt-upright, before groaning in pain as he realized he had also sat up a bit too quickly. He looked to his left, then his right, and finally, his eyes widened at what he saw.

"Dalso!" Takkar exclaimed, rushing to the man's side, ignoring his own pain. He had been fortunate; he was bruised and bleeding, but nothing was broken. But Dalso…

Dalso lay on his back, gasping for each difficult breath. He was covered in blood, and one of his ribs stuck through his chest, clearly broken.

"Takkar…" he hissed, his voice weak and quiet. He could say no more before he coughed up a spatter of blood.

"Dalso…do not try to speak. I will find green leaves, build shelter, and make a fire. We can continue the search for Oros when-"

Dalso stopped his brother, reaching out and grasping his hand. Takkar's eyes followed Dalso's to his hand. It was bloody, the fingers were broken and mangled just like the rest of Dalso, but one thing caught the hunter's attention in particular.

A white seashell bracelet.

The Wenja originated from coastal regions and, in order to remember their heritage, necklaces, bracelets, and anklets made out of the shells were passed down from generation to generation. Takkar knew what this meant, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Dalso…no...Oros is close! We-"

With the last of his strenght, Dalso squeezed Takkar's hand and gave him a gentle smile.

"This is my final sun, brashtar… do not stop. Find the Land Oros. Find our lost Wenja brothers and sisters…"

With that, Dalso gasped for air and slowly lay his head to the side, eyes still wide-open, but his chest stopped moving. Takkar stared at the deceased leader of his hunting party, unable to say anything. This wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Sure, Takkar hadn't expected the journey to be without trouble, or that they wouldn't lose anyone along the way, but he certainly wasn't supposed to be the only Wenja searching for Oros!

He and Dalso had grown up together, laughed and hunted together, tracked and fought together. But now...now he had lost everyone.

Takkar took a deep breath and then moved his hand across Dalso's face. "Walk free," he stated, not knowing what else there was to say.

For a few minutes, Takkar sat there, staring at his fallen comrade. Finally, he stood. He wouldn't leave his brashtar's corpse for the vultures, and certainly not for that fuwapsan tiger! Wenja were traditionally buried, but the ground was difficult to dig here, and it would take too much time. Takkar knew Oros was close, but the frustrated roars which came from on top of the cliff confirmed his fear that the tiger was even closer.

At the thought of the giant cat, Takkar felt anger sting in his chest. Sabretooth tigers were generally rare, and were respected and honored as great hunters among the hunter-gatherers of the Wenja. But for this specific dantan, Takkar felt nothing but hatred.

He gathered several of the large rocks that lay scattered at the foot of the mountain they'd just fallen off, covering Dalso under them, and stacked a few more on top. A makeshift shrine. Usually, a kawhi would be needed to perform the ceremony, to assure that Dalso's spirit animal would come for his soul and take him to the afterlife, where their ancestors would be waiting for them...but that clearly wouldn't be happening.

Takkar briefly stood still in front of the makeshift grave, silently paying his respect to his fellow Wenja, before standing and turning around. Dalso had told him not to stop looking for Oros, nor the Wenja that lived there, and Takkar was going to finish what they started.

Even if the rest of his party would be unable to see the end of their journey.

"Langta…my gwisha broke…" Takkar muttered, checking his gear. In the fall, he had lost his spear and his bow had been broken beyond repair. He would need to make a new one.

Takkar looked around. He and Dalso had landed in a small creek of some sort, with a few trees and shallow puddles dotting the landscape. Not bad.

Takkar's stomach growled and he bit his lip. Right. He still needed food. Yet another reason to make the bow. In the distance, he could hear the bleating of a grazer. A shawi, perhaps? It certainly seemed rugged enough here for mouflons.

It didn't take long to gather some reeds, alder wood, and slate to make a new bow, as well as some arrows. Neither were of the greatest quality, but if Takkar were to make a better one, he would need more time and resources - something he didn't have, if the sabretooth was indeed still on his tail.

After crafting the bow, Takkar lowered himself to the ground, creeping through the bushes in search of whatever made the noise. It didn't take long for him to find the source; a small herd of brown and black animals, grazing right in front of him. They weren't as slender as a mouflon, nor did they possess the curled horns, so Takkar concluded these were harbi - cave goats. He didn't mind the mistaken species, though, as cave goats were easier to catch anyway.

Knocking an arrow in his bow, he carefully pulled the string back and looked at one goat in particular. Judging from the length and thickness of the horns, it was most certainly a buck. For a second - only a second - Takkar held his breath…and then released the string.

The arrow whistled into the air and plunged deep into the side of the harbi's head. The unfortunate animal couldn't even make a sound, dying before it even hit the ground. The rest of the herd was alarmed and immediately fled, but Takkar ignored them. One goat would be more than enough.

It took about an hour or so to fully skin the goat and strip it of meat, as well as some time dedicated to making a small campfire, providing light, warmth and a place to cook his catch. With some luck, it would also be enough to ward off the tiger…

...but Takkar highly doubted it.

Then, Takkar noticed something glinting in the corner of his eye. A small piece of slate, but not a normal one. He quickly grabbed the shard and held it above the fire to take a better look at it. He squinted his eyes. This…this was an arrowhead. The craftsmanship of a Wenja! This meant Oros was truly close by, a thought that both excited and saddened the hunter. He, Dalso, and the rest of the hunting party...they had been so close. Were it not for the tiger, they might have reached it by now.

All thoughts of rest were gone. With Oros this close, he couldn't sleep! He needed to press on, to see if he could find tracks and follow them back to Oros! But it was dark…he would need light to track.

Takkar began searching, soon finding a suitable tree branch and tying it together with strips made from the goat's hide, turning it into a makeshift club that would serve him well…for now, at least. After setting the end of the club on fire and using it to burn some thorn bushes blocking his path, Takkar began his search.

It wasn't long before the Wenja entered a ravine, and his nerves immediately went on edge. On the cliff above him, he could make out the silhouette of a sabretooth, the massive bulk and long fangs leaving no room for the imagination. Unlike the pride-dwelling cave lion, or the jaguar who occasionally hunted in pairs, sabretooth tigers didn't tolerate other tigers in their territory; these giant cats hunted alone. Combined with their rarity and the odd stains around the mouth and teeth, Takkar was absolutely certain it was the one with the blood-soaked fangs that had killed Dalso.

Takkar patiently waited for the cat to move on. Once it did, thankfully without seeing him, he quickly continued his way through the ravine.

However, a surprise laid in his path; a wal lay a few meters ahead of him, a spear sticking out of its dark fur. It was dead. Takkar knelt beside the dead canine.

"That spear belonged to a Wenja…" he mused to himself, noting the craftsmanship of the spear that had been used to kill the wolf. So the Wenja of Oros were not only close, but capable.

However, the dead wolf was a warning. He didn't doubt the rest of the walkwa was still around - and indeed, distant howls confirmed it.

Takkar gritted his teeth. Wolves were vicious and clever, but they could also be intimidated…by numbers. He was alone.

Takkar was even more grateful for the flames that adorned his club. Fire was something they feared, as with most beasts.

He heard them before he even saw them. A low growl was heard behind Takkar and he swiftly turned around, just in time to see the glowing white eyes of a wolf.

Before he could do anything, the large wal lunged at him, grabbing his arm and tossing Takkar to the ground, causing Takkar to shout in surprise and release the club in the process.

Standing over him, the wolf snarled and saliva dripped on Takkar's face as it tried to tear off his face. But Takkar wouldn't go down without a fight. He used both hands to close the wolf's jaws, preventing it from biting him, before delivering a kick in the canine's gut, causing the wolf to be knocked back.

The wolf let out a whimper as it was kicked away, but it wasn't alone. Two other pairs of eyes kept watch, growling as they neared Takkar.

Wasting no time, Takkar quickly reached for the club and waved it around, pieces of ember flying around.

"Stay back, walkwa! Apa! Apa!" he shouted, making himself as big as possible, letting the wolves know he wasn't easy prey.

It got the message across

The three wolves growled, but at the sight of the makeshift torch, they quickly backed down, turning around and fleeing into the tall grass that dotted the edges of the ravine. But Takkar wasn't naive enough to think they were truly gone. As he continued to cross the ravine, he frequently looked over his shoulder. And nearly every time, he could see the wolves trailing behind him, waiting for the moment he let his guard down…so they could strike! But Takkar had come too far to be eaten by wolves now.

Eventually, he reached a ledge and quickly used some vines to climb on it. Behind him, he could hear the frustrated growls of the pack. While excellent trackers and runners, wolves could barely climb. It was a lesson all Wenja were taught. When chased by wolves, dholes, or hyenas, climb up a tree. Of course, it wasn't as effective against the feline and ursine gwaryatar of the land. When he had been younger, Mingo had made the mistake of climbing up a tree when chased by a chawha-lawhan. Dalso and Takkar had fortunately been around to help, and now the cat's claws decorated Takkar's bracelets.

The ledge led into a cave through which Takkar had to crouch down. At the end of it, he found a small cliff with an underground river running below it…and a campfire.

"The ashes are still warm…They're close by," observed Takkar. He was getting closer and closer.

He looked at the river, seeing that the tracks ended here. It seemed like a dive would be necessary.

Sighing, Takkar jumped into the cool water, the flames of his club extinguished. He swam through the river and spotted a land bridge going over the water. Takkar considered trying to look for some vines or perhaps a ledge to try and climb out when he saw two things. In the distance, a few elevations higher than the river, he spotted light from a torch. Wenja! It had to be! But at the same time, he saw it again. The massive dantan from before crossed the bridge, and Takkar lowered himself into the water, hoping that the tiger wouldn't smell him.

Fortunately, it didn't. The beast was too occupied carrying the corpse of a human between his huge jaws, and anger flared up in Takkar's chest when he recognized Maki.

He won't take another Wenja, not tonight! thought Takkar fiercely.

He needed to reach the Wenja before they would fall prey to the tiger. Making haste, he swam towards a ledge with powerful strokes and quickly pulled himself up.

Takkar was met with an…unpleasant sight, to say the least. A dead human, though not a Wenja (the dead man had a thicker build and was pale-skinned, while most Wenja tended to have dark skin), lay there, flies crawling over his face, and he wasn't alone. Multiple dead humans were scattered across the lair. Great. While no tiger would turn down the chance of an easy meal, they usually didn't, become specialized man-eaters. It seemed this particular tiger had a taste for human flesh, however. Which was bad news, to say the least. Then he saw her. A dark-skinned woman, dressed in clothing made from a red deer's hide, from the looks of it, and wearing bracelets on her arms with shells. The woman hadn't noticed him yet, to busy with inspecting the bodies of the dead humans. What was she doing her?

Nevertheless, Takkar felt incredibly relieved. At last! A fellow Wenja! But then he spotted something behind her…

"Tiger!" he shouted, quickly getting up and startling the woman. The woman instantly got up, holding a knife in one hand and a sack of…he wasn't really sure what in the other. A torch lay beside her, illuminating the cave with light.

Clearly not pleased to see him, holding up a knife.

"Stay back! Stay back!" she shouted, waving the weapon around.

"There's a tiger behind you! Look out!" shouted Takkar. But he was too late. The great beast announced his presence with a snarl and the woman turned around, only to be pounced upon by the tiger. Screaming in pain and fright, the Wenja woman squirmed under the tiger's weight, his sharp claws digging in her back.

Wasting no time, Takkar rushed forward and grabbed the torch, and without hesitation pressed it into the beast's hide. The tiger, startled, roared in pain and released the woman, backing away.

"Back, gwar! Back!" shouted Takkar, while the woman gathered what she had dropped and put them back into her sack. It turned out to be…ears? Human ears? That was…unsettling, to say the least, but right now, he was occupied with more important matters. The massive dantan trying to eat them, for example.

"Run!" he told the woman, who quickly scampered off towards a crack in the wall. Wide enough for them, but the tiger was far too large to follow. Takkar slowly walked backwards, the tiger following his every move. At one point, the gigantic cat lunged forward with his massive paws but cried out in pain when Takkar's torch scorched them, backing away again. Still, it didn't retreat. Most tigers were afraid of fire and would flee from it, but this one seemed to be brave enough to withstand it. Again, not a good sign.

When Takkar reached the crack, he waved the torch around then throw it towards the tiger, briefly stunning it. But it quickly recovered and lunged towards Takkar, who quickly entered the crack. The cat's giant paws came through the crack, trying to get him, roaring furiously, and the Wenja gained a good look of the tiger's blood-soaked fangs and muzzle. Takkar panted and looked at his side. The woman was there, eyes wide, and signaled him to come.

"Come on…this way," she said, her eyes switching back and forward between Takkar and the sabretooth before she continued. It seemed she was no longer suspicious of him…for now, at least.

Following the woman in silence, Takkar managed to squeeze his way through the narrow cavern…and was eventually met with a stunning sight. "Spirits…" He gasped, his eyes wide.

The two Wenja, once they left the cave system where the tiger roamed behind them, looked over a massive valley...And it was breathtaking. To the west, there seemed to be lush redwood forests, while in the south he could see what looked to be plains and marshes. The east seemed to be made out of hills, and in the north, he could vaguely make out gigantic glaciers and snowy mountains. A wide river ran through the valley, which looked fertile and full of life. At that moment, Takkar knew his journey was over. He had found the land of Oros.

"Oros…" gasped Takkar softly, taking everything in. He almost forgot the woman was there as well, until she spoke up.

"You are a Wenja…But you are not from here." It was a statement, not a question, and she regarded him with newfound curiosity.

Takkar nodded. "Correct…I have traveled for many suns to try and reach Oros in search of other Wenja." He said, deciding not to tell her about Dalso yet. That would be a long story, and he didn't want to skip the details.

"My name is Sayla." Introduced the woman herself.

"Sayla…You risked death by going into that tiger's cave. Why would you do that?" asked Takkar, genuinely confused at why anyone would do such a thing. Sure, hunters would occasionally enter a predator's den. But that was usually to try and steal food from them, or to kill them when they were resting. But it was a dangerous job, a last resort. Especially to enter the cave of a tiger such as this…

"Hasardantan hunts the Udam that are stationed near Ring Wall Outpost. He takes them to his cave…and I need their ears." Takkar gave her a bewildered look, and Sayla muttered something under her breath, to soft for him to hear. But he did now know the name of the tiger. Hasardantan. Bloodfang. A most appropriate name for the great beast, as well as concerning. From experience, Takkar knew the Wenja didn't give just any tough beast a name. If the people of Oros had bestowed a title such as this onto the tiger, then Bloodfang must have been one of the deadliest creatures in the valley.

"Are you alone?" he asked Sayla. He sent a silent prayer to the spirits, hoping this wouldn't be the only Wenja in all of Oros. If so, the journey would have been for nothing. Sayla, however, didn't answer. Instead, she seemed to be lost in thought. Then, she spoke up, but not to answer Takkar's question.

"I have a shelter," she said, looking at him, wincing as she stood up. Bloodfang's claws had made deep wounds, it seemed. "And food and water as well. Come with me."

Without waiting for an answer from the bewildered Takkar, she strode past him, turning around when she realized the other Wenja wasn't following her.

"Come on then!" she said, a tad bit impatient as she gestured for Takkar to follow. Takkar took one last glance at the valley that lay in front of him. Soon, he would be able to explore it to his heart's content…But first, he needed to know what had happened to the rest of their tribe. He turned back to face Sayla and nodded.

"Let's go."


Holy crap an update! I do apologise for how long it took, but exams and internships will do that. Takkar has officially met his first Wenja from Oros, as well as the terrefying Bloodfang. As you probably noticed, I've used a lot more Wenja in this chapter then in the previous one and as always, the words used will be translated here in alphabetical order. In case you're wondering how I get the translations, I get them from a blog called Speaking Primal from Andrew Miles Byrd, who analyzed the languages in the game.

Apa = Back

Brashtar = Brother

Chawha-lawhan = Cave lion

Dantan = Sabretooth

Fuwapsan = Fucking

Gwar = Beast

Gwaryatar = Predator

Gwisha = Bow

Harbi = Cave goat

Hasardantan = Bloodfang (literally blood sabretooth)

Kawhi = Shaman

Langta = Damn

Shawi = Mouflon

Tigri = Tiger

Wal = Wolf

Walkwa = Wolf pack